


The Foreign Emissary

by The_Creative_Muse



Series: The Few Who Remain [2]
Category: King Arthur (2004)
Genre: Adventure, Brothers, Drama, F/M, Family, Friendship, Hurt Tristan, Old Wounds, Original Character(s), Sexual Content, knights of the round table - Freeform, relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-03-24 00:19:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13799400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Creative_Muse/pseuds/The_Creative_Muse
Summary: Tristan and Nova go on a mission for Arthur to meet an emissary from across the sea. A snowstorm hits and affects them more than they thought possible. Sequel 1 to Nova. Part 2 of The Few Who Remain series.





	1. Part I

High above the earth the hawk soared, zeroing in on a pair of riders who were carving a path through the hilly landscape. With a shrill call, the bird folded her wings and dropped, aiming straight for the lead rider and quickly coming to a gentle rest on his outstretched arm.

“Hey, girl,” the rider smiled at the hawk now relaxingly perched on his left arm, “See anything worth noting up there?”

The bird shook her head, settling her wings slightly.

The rider chuckled, glancing over at his companion with his one good eye, “Seems our course is clear for now.”

The female rider nodded, “That’s good. How far did you say it was?”

“We’re meeting the emissary on the south coast. Another day’s ride or so.”

She nodded again, green eyes clouding briefly in thought, “Did Arthur say who we would be meeting?”

“An emissary of some kind from the east,” he replied, “He was not specific. I’m not sure that he even knows that much about who it is.”

“How will we know we are meeting the right person?”

He shrugged one shoulder, “I assume he will have orders from his lord and I have this,” he held up a round bit of metal, a golden coin of sorts, “Arthur’s, from his time in the service of Rome. If this emissary recognizes this, then we know.”

He slowed his horse slightly, letting her come up on his side, and turned toward her slightly, “When we do arrive at the meeting point, you are to stay hidden while I go out to meet the emissary.”

She frowned, opening her mouth to respond, but he shook his head.

“No excuses, Nova,” the corner of his mouth lifted in a small smile, “I do not doubt your ability to protect yourself, I only aim to keep our number hidden should the person we meet decide to cause a problem.”

Shaking her head, Nova smiled back at him, “By that you mean, if they attack you, I can attack them back.”

“Precisely.”

Nova sighed, “Ever the protector, aren’t you, Tristan?”

“Only toward those who matter to me,” he responded quietly, his brown eye soft as he looked at her.

.~~~~~~~.

The pair continued riding until it was nearly too dark to see the ground before them.

“We can camp there,” Tristan pointed at a small copse of trees, “Should be some good kindling for a fire,” he winced slightly as he rubbed his right arm. “A cold wind is coming.”

He and Nova dismounted in the trees, tethering the horses and beginning to build a fire. Soon enough, flames burst to life from the pile of branches. Hawk rested on a low branch of tree, close enough for Tristan to see her in the light of the fire.

“Your arm still bothers you,” Nova stated, observing Tristan rubbing his arm again.

Tristan sighed, “Only when it gets cold.”

She moved closer to him, wrapping her blanket around them both, “Well, we have to keep it warm then.”

“Just my arm?” he smiled, leaning in to kiss her gently.

Laughing, she returned his kiss briefly, “More than that, if you want.”

Hawk ruffled her feathers as the two by the fire continued their intimacy. Humans.

.~~~~~~~.

Dawn came slowly and as Nova sat up, she immediately pulled the blanket tighter against the sudden chill from his empty space next to her.

“Trist?” she called his name quietly. His horse was still next to hers, but Hawk was gone and so were Tristan’s weapons.

Reaching for her own bow, she stood quickly, searching the surrounding trees for any sign of him. A new layer of snow rested on the ground, flurries continually drifting from the gray skies above. She frowned as she realized that the snow would have already filled in any footprints he may have left behind.

She nocked an arrow to her bow, walking away from their camp but staying close enough to still keep an eye on the horses. Scanning the landscape, she saw nothing that stood out against the white earth nor the dark trees. Suddenly, Hawk came at her from off to her left, so fast that she fell back onto the snow, losing her grip on her bow.

“Hawk!” Nova quickly scrambled back to her feet, dusting herself off and picking up her bow and arrow. “You startled me. Where is Tristan?”

Hawk landed only briefly at her feet, letting out one shrill screech before leaping back into the air in the direction that she’d just come from. Cursing under her breath, Nova followed the bird as fast as she could through the uneven terrain. Soon enough, Hawk came to a rest near a large tree, hopping along the ground toward a dark figure.

“Tristan!” Nova breathed his name, rushing forward and dropping to her knees in front of him. “What happened? Are you injured?”

The Scout shook his head, offering her a half smile, “I’m alright, it’s just the cold,” he took a deep breath and she could see the pain cross his face as he used his left arm to move his right, “I underestimated how badly this snow would affect my old wounds. I can’t move my leg or my right arm.”

“You should have woken me,” she chided softly, putting his left arm around her shoulders and helping him to his feet, “I could have come with you.”

He chuckled, then sucked in a pained breath as they began to trudge back toward their camp, “You were so peaceful,” he managed quietly, “I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“I’d rather have been disturbed then have to rescue you from freezing to death,” she countered.

He only smiled, limping the rest of the way back in silence.

When they reached the tethered horses, Nova left Tristan leaning on a tree while she gathered their blankets and readied the horses.

“Will you be able to ride?” she asked, unable to keep the concern from her voice.

He nodded, wincing as he took a half step toward his horse, “Yes, I just need your help to get into the saddle.”

Nova stepped up next to him, supporting his bad leg as he pulled himself up with his good arm and swung his good leg over his horse. The beast shifted slightly and Nova smiled to herself when Tristan patted the horse’s shoulder. She could hear the Scout breathing harder than usual, but when she looked up at him, his face was his normal stoic expression.

Mounting her own horse quickly, she followed him and Hawk as they led the way back to the trail. She watched Tristan closely while they rode. He wasn’t pushing his horse as fast as he usually would and it was obvious to her that he was still in pain, the way he sat and the way he held his horse’s reins. Frowning, she moved her horse next to his.

“Are you sure we should continue right now?”

He stared at her for a moment with his good eye, before shifting slightly and pushing his horse forward. “We don’t have time to stop,” he growled.

“Tristan.”

He halted his horse, but didn’t look at her.

Riding up next to him again, she turned toward him, “I know you aren’t weak, trust me,” she reached over and placed her hand on his briefly, “But I also know that if you push yourself too hard, you won’t be any good to anyone.”

“We cannot afford to stop,” he replied quietly, “I appreciate your concern, Nova, I do...” With a sigh, he took her hand, a flash of indescribable emotion crossing his face, “Not knowing how, or if, my body will react when I need it to – I – I can’t...”

“It scares you,” she finished for him, smiling knowingly, “I understand. That’s why I came with you.”

He returned her smile, lifting her hand to his lips. “I knew there was a reason why I keep you around.”

Laughing, she pulled her hand from his, “Oh, I think there’s more to it than that. Come on, Sir Tristan.”

.~~~~~~~.

They continued on their trek through snow-laden outcroppings, Tristan slightly ahead of Nova with Hawk circling around above their heads. After riding well past midday, they finally arrived at the south coast of Britain. They stopped at the edge of the beach, where the sand met the snow-covered grass. Nova’s soft gasp caused Tristan to turn toward her. She sat up straight in her saddle, mouth slightly agape, green eyes wide as she took in the scenery in front of them. He could have sworn he saw tears in her eyes.

“It’s beautiful,” she murmured, smiling at him, “I don’t even know how long it’s been since I was here last.”

He nodded, “I know,” he dismounted, taking a quick step back as he landed on his feet before holding his hand up to her, “My lady.”

Nova laughed lightly, taking his offered hand as she dismounted, practically into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, closing any space that might have been there. “I wish we could travel the world, just you and me.”

Giving her his signature half smile, Tristan kissed her fully, holding her tightly to him, “I would love that, but I think Arthur would be hard pressed to find good replacements for us.”

She laughed and he kissed her again, more passionately, holding this kiss longer until he had to pull away in order to breathe.

“I love you, Nova,” he whispered, staring into her eyes, which shone as he spoke.

“And I love you, Tristan,” she replied without a moment’s hesitation, “I think we are good for each other.”

Chuckling, he nodded, “I agree.”

His jovial demeanor shifted suddenly as he saw the boat approaching the shore. He could feel his heartbeat increase, his breath coming faster. He was nervous, of that he was acutely aware. Not because he was representing Arthur to a foreign emissary, although that did play a part in his nervousness, no, he was mildly freaking out on the inside because he was about to walk into an unknown and he was afraid that his body wouldn’t cooperate.

“Do you want me to go with you?”

Nova’s question startled him slightly and he glanced at her, “I told you already-”

“That was before we knew how much the weather would affect you,” she interrupted, “I can stand behind you, holding the horses and Hawk. Close enough to jump in if necessary, but far enough away to be respectful.”

He just nodded, unable to form any words at that current moment. She pressed her lips to his cheek briefly, grabbing the reins of both horses. “Lead on.”

.~~~~~~~.

They walked slowly toward the boat, Nova stopping a decent distance behind Tristan who stood, feet spread slightly, one hand on his sword hilt, the other twirling Arthur’s coin between nimble fingers. She couldn’t help but smile to herself, feeling something akin to pride as she took in his appearance. He looked almost regal standing there, seemingly relaxed but still very attentive. The sea breeze, although cold, whipped at his hair and cloak, giving him an alluring air as his facial tattoos and his scar were more apparent.

Hawk dropped out of the gray sky, coming to rest on Tristan’s left arm and adding all the more to the Scout’s imposing figure. Nova wondered what the foreign people on board the boat were thinking as they saw him. If she didn’t know him so well already, she would be a little taken aback by the strange, scarred, hawk-carrying warrior who stood like a statue on the cold beach.


	2. Part II

A tall, dark-skinned young man stepped off the boat, carrying one small satchel and making his way in long strides toward Tristan. He appeared to be younger than Tristan by several years and was dressed in some kind of shimmering brightly colored tunic and trousers. The style, colors, even the embroidered patterns reminded Tristan of a handful of travelers who had passed through his village when he was a child. He was already intrigued.

“Greetings from the House of Sasan,” a deep voice greeted Tristan and the younger man smiled giving a short bow, “I am Majidi, merchant and emissary from His Royal Eminence Shah Yazdegerde I.”

Hawk leapt from Tristan’s arm, flying back to Nova, and Tristan bowed stiffly in response to the newcomer. “Welcome to Britannia, my lord. I am Sir Tristan, Scout of Sarmatia, Second Knight of the Round Table, and Envoy of Arthur Castus the King of the Britons.”

As Tristan straightened, he noted how Majidi was looking him over. _No doubt used to more refined people,_ Tristan thought to himself, realizing that he most likely looked a little worse for wear at the moment. The Scout held Arthur’s coin out toward the younger man.

As Majidi took the coin, turning it this way and that, his brow knit together, “Sir Tristan, you say?”

Tristan swallowed a sudden lump of nervousness in his throat and nodded. “Yes, my lord.”

“Your reputation precedes you, Tristan of Sarmatia,” Majidi smiled, “You can forgo the formalities, we are equals here. In fact, you may actually be my better.”

Tristan blinked, taken aback. “My apologies, but, what do you mean? How do you already know about me?”

“Your name is well-known in the East,” Majidi explained, “Alongside King Arthur and Sir Lancelot and a handful of others I can never remember the names of, you always stand out in the stories. Your cool demeanor, your fighting style, your pet hawk,” Majidi paused, “The scars and tattoos are no legend, I see.”

Tristan ducked his head, he was so unprepared for having someone, a complete stranger, know all about him, almost revere him.

“I apologize,” Majidi spoke up quickly, “Truly, I meant no disrespect nor embarrassment. It is an honor for me to meet one of the famous Knights. I feel that I am perhaps a bit too excited.”

“No apologies necessary,” Tristan replied, a half smile on his face, “I was not aware our lives were tales told in distant lands. Now, have you a horse or anyone who is to travel with you?”

Majidi shook his head, “I have neither, I suppose I shall have to borrow one of your horses. You are wise to have a companion with you in this weather and-” he gasped, “It is a woman!”

“Yes, she is,” Tristan looked at Majidi, slightly confused at the foreigner’s reaction to Nova. “Her name is Nova. She is my, um, partner of sorts.”

“Your wife?” Majidi asked, “Perhaps your slave? Or both?”

Tristan nearly choked as he fought for a response, “Neither.”

It was Majidi’s turn to look confused. “I do not understand. She is your woman, but not your wife?”

“In a way,” Tristan nodded, “It’s hard to explain. I don’t pretend to own or control her in any way. She is her own person and we enjoy each others’ company.”

He cringed inwardly at his own words. Obviously this Majidi was used to an entirely different societal structure when it came to women, that much was clear.

Majidi nodded. “I think I understand. Or I will, at the very least. I know I have a lot to learn about other cultures.”

As they approached where Nova stood with the horses, Nova bowed to Majidi.

“Pleasure to meet you, my lord,” she greeted him with a smile.

Majidi bowed in response, “The pleasure is mine, Lady Nova.”

Nova blushed, glancing at Tristan briefly before holding her horse’s reins to Majidi. “I trust you know how to ride?”

Majidi laughed lightly, “A woman who gets to the point, I see,” he winked at Tristan, “I know why you like her.”

Tristan only smiled, swinging himself up onto his own horse, his good leg barely clearing the top of the saddle. He couldn’t show Majidi just how bad off he was. Reaching a hand down, he pulled Nova up behind him on his horse, resting one hand on her arm that was now wrapped around him.

Majidi pulled himself up effortlessly onto the other horse, shifting in the saddle for a moment before turning to Tristan with a smile. “Lead on, Sir Knight.”

.~~~~~~~.

Tristan nudged his horse forward, heading back in the direction he and Nova had just come from. It would take them another two and a half days at least to get back to the Wall. That was not taking into account the weather conditions, or the fact that now there were two riders on one horse. Also, there was no way for him to know how experienced a rider Majidi was. He’d heard stories of the Sassanid Empire, he recalled seeing some of their cavalry on occasion when he was a boy, but that did not guarantee that this particular Sasan emissary had mastered all the nuances of horsemanship.

They plodded northward at a steady pace, making surprisingly good time, despite the weather and the coming darkness. 

Tristan pointed them to a rocky outcropping, “We’ll camp there tonight.”

Majidi nodded silently, continuing to follow where Tristan lead. As they slowed, Nova slid from the back of Tristan’s horse before it stopped completely, her bow in hand.

“I’ll go find some dinner,” she told the men, disappearing into the snow.

Tristan dismounted a bit roughly, trying not to land too hard on his bad leg. He couldn’t prevent a slight stumble as his feet landed on the frozen earth. Clutching his horse’s saddle, he steadied himself.

“Old wounds?” Majidi spoke quietly.

Startled, Tristan stared at him.

“I recognize the stiffness,” the younger man explained with a knowing smile, “My uncle was quite the warrior, he had countless injuries from many battles. Always in winter his wounds would ache, sometimes so badly he could not get out of bed. He told me “Majidi, it is the price we pay to have our names in history.””

“Your uncle is correct,” Tristan gave him a wry smile, “I apologize if I do not meet up to your expectations.”

Majidi waved off the Scout’s comment, “Nonsense. Tristan, you are a true warrior, and as such, I would expect nothing less from you. You are too humble, I admit, but you have proven your mettle more than enough, I would say. The fact that you are out here,” he motioned to the snowy landscape, “Only a few months after being in such a horrific battle...” he trailed off, shaking his head.

Tristan could see admiration in Majidi’s eyes. He wondered what kind of stories were really told about him and the other Knights. Obviously, they were probably greatly exaggerated. He shrugged his good shoulder in response to the other man.

“I can’t sit idly by while others go about life,” Tristan told him, “People depend on me.”

“I understand that sentiment,” Majidi removed the saddle from his horse, placing it on the ground and rubbing the beast’s neck soothingly, “You have beautiful horses here. Are they from Sarmatia?”

Tristan nodded, “Yes, both of these are. I brought this one with me when I came here as a boy,” he stroked his horse’s nose, smiling as she nuzzled his hand. “Nova’s belonged to a Knight whom we lost years ago.”

“They seem similar to the ones I am used to, but they have their own unique qualities,” Majidi looked at Tristan, “The only stories I know are of your exploits in the service of Arthur, which I am sure I have not heard all the details of. Will you tell me how you became a Knight? How you came to be here, so far from your homeland?”

“I can,” the Scout answered quietly, “If you truly want to hear it.”

“I would not ask you if I did not want to know.”

Tristan pulled his own horse’s saddle off, taking his bow and laying on the ground next to the saddlebags. “Let me build a fire first and see how Nova is coming with the hunting.”

“Of course,” Majidi smiled, “Can I help you?”

Tristan motioned the younger man to follow as he made his way to look for branches to make good kindling. He tried not to limp, but was unable to hide how much his leg hurt. This cold weather was really doing a number on him and he hated it.

“You are a scout?” Majidi asked, “You know how to follow tracks, look for herbs, that kind of thing?”

Tristan nodded, “More or less.”

“You are invaluable to Arthur then.”

It was a statement that took Tristan by surprise and he stopped briefly, casting a sidelong glance at Majidi, “I never thought about it that way.”

The other man chuckled, “I suppose not. Most good men do not think too highly of themselves or their worth. This is what makes them truly good. You take pride in every task you accomplish, but you refrain from being a braggart.”

Tristan only nodded. It seemed Majidi had an endless well of interesting ideals and quotes. The two gathered a good bit of firewood and carried it back to the camp without another word spoken between them.

“Good,” Nova approached from the other side of the horses, dropping two gutted and skinned rabbits on the snow, “I was hoping you would have a fire going soon. My fingers feel like they’re going to fall off, I’m so cold.”

Sending sparks into the kindling, Tristan got the fire started, standing stiffly and stepping up to her. “Thank you,” he smiled softly, taking her hands in between his in an attempt to rub some warmth into them, “Sit and warm up.”

She smiled, kissing him briefly before sitting as close to the fire as was safe. “You are from the Sassanid Empire, Majidi?”

The man in question nodded, looking across the flames at her, “Yes, my uncle was the military leader of the previous Shah. I am acting as emissary for Shah Yazdegerde I, trying to get back into the good graces of the royal family.”

Tristan strung the rabbits on a long branch, propping it over the fire. “Royal life sounds too complex and underhanded for me,” he sat next to Nova, laying a blanket across her shoulders, “I’ll stay out here.”

Majidi laughed, “You are correct. I suppose I am used to it. Although the peacefulness here, I do not think I have ever truly been able to enjoy the outdoors this much. I think I like it.”

“You’re not the only one,” Nova winked at him, “Let me tell you, it’s hard to keep Tristan from running off at a moment’s notice.”

Tristan scowled good-naturedly at her, “It’s not my fault I prefer nature to most other things.”

Majidi shook his head, smiling, “You both compliment each other. You know that?”

“How so?” Nova asked, shifting closer to Tristan and the warmth that emanated from him.

“Tristan is more quiet, more calculated and careful with each action. There is an immense strength of mind and body I feel there. You, Lady Nova,” Majidi paused, “You are beautiful as you are intelligent. You are aware of what exactly Tristan is thinking without even needing to ask him and you aid him in such a way that I rarely see from the women I usually meet. You are willing to speak up, if necessary, when the situation requires, and you know exactly what to say to get on his nerves, but in a humorous way. It is refreshing, truly, to see the two of you interact.”

Tristan smiled, seeing Nova’s face turn a shade of pink, “Very good observations, Majidi. I must agree with you. She is certainly irreplaceable to me.”

Nova sent him an odd look, but smiled and said nothing.

“Tell me, Tristan,” Majidi leaned forward eagerly, “Will you share with me now your story?”

Tristan nodded slowly, “Yes, although I don’t think it is nearly quite as exciting as you would like.”

Majidi shook his head, “Nonsense. Please, begin.”

Clearing his throat, Tristan started at the beginning, or as far back as he could remember. His parents’ deaths, his village spurning him. He gave Majidi a brief history, tales more like it, of Sarmatia and their sworn duty to Rome, the reason behind why he and the others had left their homeland as boys.

“I wanted to leave,” he explained, absently turning the rabbits over the fire, “Unlike some who were chosen at random, I practically volunteered myself. I was no good to anyone there and I needed something new, something different. A true challenge, as it were.”

Majidi sat cross-legged, his chin resting on his propped up hands, enthralled. Nova was also listening with rapt attention, and Tristan realized that he had never told her about his youth, the details of which he had only ever shared with Arthur and Dagonet.

“But nothing could have prepared me, or any of us, for what was to come,” Tristan continued, going on about the arduous journey to Britain, the vigorous training, the years living alongside the Roman garrison but never as their equals, the brothers in arms that they lost over time. He recalled it all up until that fateful day when, after fifteen years of faithful service, they were supposed to get their discharge papers but were sent on that final mission instead. 

He stopped speaking, frowning thoughtfully at nothing in particular as he remembered the pain on the other Knights’ faces, their tortured minds trying to process the fact that they were still not yet free. But he had resigned himself to that life, the life of following orders and killing on command. He hadn’t thought about it until recalling it just now, but he had also been afraid, only he had been afraid of the unknown of freedom, whereas the others had been afraid of death, of never seeing that freedom in this life.

“Well?” Majidi’s excited voice snapped him back to the moment, “What happened next?”

Tristan glanced at Nova. Her face was expressionless. No doubt she was also recalling that final mission, without which, she never would have been found and rescued.

“We went, as Rome commanded us,” Tristan responded finally, “The six of us who were left, and Arthur, traveled north of the wall to find the boy and his family and to bring them back. When we got to that estate,” he paused, watching Nova, “Arthur came across an underground crypt of sorts where disillusioned priests were torturing poor souls in the name of their God. It was from that hell pit that we rescued the Lady Guinevere, the boy Lucan, and Nova.”

Majidi gasped audibly, “I could never have imagined such a thing. What had happened to them there?”

Nova shuddered slightly, pulling the blanket more tightly around herself. “I don’t believe you really want to know the details,” she spoke up, her voice quivering, “It is the stuff of nightmares.”

“I am truly sorry, Lady Nova,” Majidi spoke with sincerity, “I did not mean to bring up such horrible memories for you.”

She shook her head, “No apology necessary,” she smiled at Tristan, reaching to take his hand, “If Rome had not pushed Arthur to take that final mission, Tristan never would have found me. For that, I am incredibly lucky and ever grateful.”

Tristan returned her smile, squeezing her hand gently.

“I would never have guessed that either of you had come from such dark places,” Majidi commented quietly, “Thank you for humoring me with your story.”

Tristan nodded, “It’s no trouble.” He reached for the cooking rabbits that were nicely browned from the fire. Carefully, he cooled the meat in the snow, slicing off large chunks for each of them. “Once we’ve eaten, I suggest you both get some rest. We still have another two days ride, weather permitting.”

“I would like to keep first watch with you, if you don’t mind.” Majidi looked at him over the steaming rabbit.

The Scout shrugged, “If you want.”

Nova stifled a yawn behind her hand, “Please wake me for second watch, Trist.”

“Of course,” he smiled at her, kissing her lightly, “Go sleep.”

He watched her burrow into the small pile of furs they had, her eyes drifting closed almost immediately.

“She truly is something else,” Majidi murmured.

Startled, Tristan looked at him, “She saved my life at Badon Hill and she still hasn’t given up on me.”

Majidi smiled, shaking his head slightly, “As much as I think I know, I still have much to learn. Your relationship is something I haven’t witnessed before. And your willingness to traverse this land in this weather,” he let out a sigh, “You have more courage than I, Sir Tristan.”

“I doubt that,” Tristan replied, “We are different, you and I. Different lives, different experiences. But there is no way to compare us. Courage means something different to each of us.”

“I think I’ll be learning a lot from you.”

Smiling, Tristan shook his head, “If you say so.” He added another log to the fire, glancing around them at the darkened trees and outcroppings. Everything was calm, peaceful. He and Majidi kept a quiet conversation until midnight when the younger man could barely keep his eyes open.

“Go ahead and get some sleep,” Tristan told him, poking the fire to keep it going.

“You’ll get Nova to keep watch?”

The Scout nodded, “I’ll take care of it.”

Majidi all but stumbled into his own bed, passing out within moments. Tristan sighed. He wanted to get up, to wake up Nova so that he could get some sleep, but his body wouldn’t move. His entire right side felt numb, frozen. Even Hawk was sleeping, feathers fluffed against the cold. Cursing under his breath, Tristan pulled his cloak tighter around him with his left arm. He’d be fine. It was only another day or two and then he’d be able to sleep as much as he wanted.


	3. Part III

The next morning, Nova sat up straight, realizing that Tristan had never woken her during the night. With a frown, she saw the Scout still sitting by the remains of last night’s fire. He sat so still, his one eye closed, little bits of snow scattered in his hair.

“Tristan?” she called his name softly, standing and wrapping her own blanket around her, “Are you awake?”

As she approached him, she noted how slowly his chest rose and fell, and as she leaned closer, she heard a raspy rattling as he breathed. Gently, she shook his shoulder, concern now making her heart race.

“Tristan, wake up.”

He stirred slightly, eyelid fluttering open and taking a second to focus on her. “N-Nova?” he stammered in a broken whisper.

“You stayed here all night,” she gently chided, taking his hands in hers, “You’re so cold. Do you feel alright?”

Slowly, he shook his head, “C-Can’t m-move.”

She’d been afraid of this. Between the weather and pushing himself too hard to travel, she’d worried this might happen.

“If I can get you on your horse, can you stay on by yourself?” She asked him.

He nodded.

“Is everything alright?” Majidi’s voice startled her.

She glanced from Tristan, to Majidi. “Would you help me get him on his horse?”

The younger man frowned, nodding, “He never woke you last night?”

“No,” she replied quietly, “The cold is affecting him far worse than either of us expected.”

With Majidi’s assistance, Nova managed to get Tristan settled onto his horse, covering him in as many furs as she could. Silently, she hoped that his body would stop shaking and that this would only be a temporary problem. Obviously, he was in no shape to control his own horse, and she didn’t want to try to get up with him. There was only one other option.

“You’re going to walk?” Majidi stared at her, “In this weather?”

“I have no other choice,” she told him, tucking a blanket around her like a cloak and taking Tristan’s horse’s reins.

“Why not ride with me, then?” he asked.

She shook her head, “I’d rather not tire out the horses any more than they already are. I’ll be fine, I promise. Let’s start moving while we can.”

She led the way along a faint path, Majidi close behind Tristan’s horse and Hawk circling above them. They trudged along well enough, the snow not too deep to cause any real issues. Around midday, Nova glanced back at Tristan. His eye was closed, his body starting to lean to one side.

“Tristan!” She shouted his name, in the hopes of waking him, but to no avail. She barely reached the horse’s side in time to keep him from hitting the ground.

“Here, let me help.” Majidi was right next to her, helping her carry Tristan to a rocky outcropping. “What do you think is wrong with him?”

She frowned, shaking her head, “I don’t know for sure. He’s still so cold, his body won’t stop shaking. At this point, it is beyond anything I can do, it’s more than just his injuries acting up.”

Majidi looked from Tristan to her, “What can we do?”

“Make camp here,” she told him, gathering a handful of sticks to start a fire, “Keep a fire going as long as you can. I will take Tristan’s horse and right fast for the Wall. Dagonet will know what to do.”

“You would leave me here with him?” Majidi asked.

Nova bit her lip, “I’m sorry, I see no other option.”

He nodded, laying a comforting hand briefly on her arm, “I understand. I will be fine. Just be safe.”

“Thank you,” she murmured. Gently, she brushed a strand of hair from Tristan’s face. She hoped that Dagonet could help him. The last thing she needed was anything to happen to her Scout. Brushing her lips across his forehead, she pulled herself into the saddle and turned north.

“If no one is back within three days, then I didn’t make it,” she told Majidi quietly, “I hope you can hunt. Hawk can help you.”

The bird in question settled next to Tristan on a rock, screeching up at the other two.

“I’ll manage, I promise,” Majidi replied, “God speed.”

She sent him a curt nod and kicked the horse forward. Tristan’s horse was a good one, she seemed to have a sixth sense as far as where the best path was and Nova pretty much let the animal lead the way. Soon enough the sky was darkening and the snow was coming down faster and thicker, and Nova pushed onward, slowly through the night. At some point in the early morning her head snapped up and she cursed herself for falling asleep in the saddle.

“We’ll make it, girl,” she spoke softly to the horse, “For Tristan. We have to.”

That was when she spotted it. A dark blob standing out against the white landscape. She could have sworn it was a wagon, with another horse and rider alongside it. Slowly she kept on a straight path toward them, hoping deep down that these were people who could help her.

“Whoa!” the wagon came to a sudden stop as she approached and she instantly recognized the man driving.

“Dagonet!” she pulled her horse to a stop next to him, “What are you doing out here?”

Dagonet motioned to the rider next to him, “Lucan Saw something concerning about Trist. Where is he?”

Nova turned her horse, “Follow me.”

“No, girl,” Dagonet shook his head, “Join me here on the wagon, we’ll tie Trist’s horse alongside here. You both need a rest.”

Silently obeying, Nova sat next to Dagonet on the wagon, pulling her blanket tightly around her. She was grateful for Lucan and his Gift, as strange as it still was to her. The gentle bumping over the ground made it easy for her to nod off, her head resting against Dagonet’s shoulder.

“Over there,” Lucan pointed to the rocks where a small line of smoke drifted into the sunset.

Dagonet flicked the reins, urging the wagon forward at a faster pace toward the fire. Rubbing her eyes, Nova sat straight on the seat, looking eagerly ahead. They stopped just short of the rocks, Dagonet and Lucan both jumping down and moving cautiously toward the fire.

“Who’s there?”

Nova recognized Majidi’s voice, sounding slightly panicked as he came around the rocks.

“Lady Nova!” he stared in surprise, “You returned already.”

Nova nodded, “Majidi. I ran into Dagonet and Lucan on the road.”

“You are the Emissary,” Dagonet bowed slightly, “An honor to meet you, I am Sir Dagonet, this is Lucan. Please forgive us for leaving you here.”

Majidi shook his head, “It is no trouble. Things happen. I am only glad that you are here to help.”

As Lucan and Dagonet moved Tristan into the cart, Majidi gathered everything from the camp, tying his horse to the wagon and joining Dagonet in the back. Nova clicked her tongue to the horse, moving the wagon forward, north toward the Wall.

.~~~~~~~.

“He’s burning,” Dagonet commented quietly, holding his palm to the Scout’s forehead, “How long has he been like this?”

“About two days by now,” Nova spoke up from the front seat, “The weather has made his injuries far worse than we imagined, he was unable to move to wake me or build up the fire. This was two nights ago. When I woke in the morning, he was shivering, barely conscious. We made it half a day before he was too bad to ride.”

Dagonet nodded silently, rummaging into a leather bag and pulling out various herbs. He smashed the leaves together in a bowl, adding a few drops of water to make it just liquidy enough to drink.

“Come on, Trist,” he whispered, holding the bowl to the Scout’s lips, “Drink up.”

Majidi helped hold the unconscious Knight while Dagonet got some of the herbal remedy down Tristan’s throat.

“This will help the fever?” he asked.

Dagonet frowned, “That is the hope. Lucan?”

The boy looked over at them, shaking his head, “Nothing, Dag. You’ll be the first to know, I promise.”

The healer caught the confused expression on Majidi’s face. “The boy is a Seer,” he explained, “He is the reason we came to find you.”

Majidi blinked, surprise clear on his face, “He sees the future? In visions? How detailed?”

Dagonet smiled, shaking his head, “Those are questions for Lucan.”

“I’d be happy to talk to you about it when we return to the Wall,” Lucan spoke up, nodding his head to Majidi, “If you truly want to know.”

“Yes, if it isn’t too much trouble for you,” Majidi looked with awe at the boy, “I have only ever met one Seer before. I was a child and she scared me. You… You have such a vastly different aura about you, Lucan.”

Dagonet chuckled, tucking more blankets around Tristan, “If you haven’t noticed already, Britain is full of things that will surprise you.”

Majidi nodded, “So I am realizing.”

The rest of the trip back was quiet, if stressful. Dagonet continued to force feed his herbs to Tristan who faded in and out of consciousness. Nova drove the wagon, following Lucan as he led them north. After another day and a half, the Wall was in sight, stretching along the horizon.

“What a sight,” Majidi breathed, “This is where you all live?”

Dagonet nodded, “Yes, it is.”

Nova kicked the wagon into higher speed, breezing through the gates as they were opened for them and coming to a halt in the inner courtyard..

“Lucan, please escort Lord Majidi to Arthur,” Dagonet jumped down from the wagon, glancing at Nova, “I have other things to attend to at the moment.”

The boy nodded, dismounting from his own horse and effortlessly picking up Majidi’s bag. “Follow me.”

Dagonet watched them walk away, sighing as he turned to the wagon. “Let’s get him to his room,” he spoke quietly to Nova, noting how silent the girl had been during the trip back. “I’ll take care of him, Nova. I promise.”

“I do not doubt your skill,” Nova replied, “I only doubt Fate’s kindness in letting him live. He has been through so much already, barely making it past hell’s gates,” she shook her head, letting out a long breath, “I can only hope at this point.”

Frowning slightly, Dagonet nodded, “I think I understand. Come, help me get him to his room.”

.~~~~~~~.

They managed to get Tristan to his room easily enough, Dagonet helping Nova to undress the Scout down to his trousers and then pile him with blankets. He still remained unconscious, hallucinating every so often and thrashing about, only to calm when Nova spoke to him.

“Is he that bad?” Arthur’s quiet voice spoke from the doorway.

Nova started and looked up at him, “He has had a fever for the last three days that will not break. Dagonet and I have tried everything.”

Frowning, Arthur moved to stand next to her, concern prevalent on his face, “I can send for Merlin, if you think it necessary.”

“I think that’s our only option,” Nova nodded, sitting back with a sigh. She felt a warm hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Arthur’s strained smile.

“I will make sure Tristan is cared for, Nova,” he told her quietly, “Please, go rest. Someone will wake you when anything changes.”

“I can’t leave him,” she objected in a whisper.

“Please, Nova,” Arthur stressed his request, “I can’t have you falling ill as well. Tristan would never forgive me for allowing that to happen.”

With a troubled frown, she nodded, “Alright, but I’ll hold you to that promise. If anything happens.”

“You will be notified immediately,” Arthur offered an encouraging smile.

Nova brushed her lips across Tristan’s forehead, slowly straightening and turning to leave the room. Arthur was right. She needed rest and if she wore herself out too much, Tristan wouldn't be happy with her. For the next several days, Tristan drifted in and out of consciousness, his fever continuing to hold steady. Dagonet and Merlin worked tirelessly to ease the fever, using herbs and various other methods that were very strange to Nova. Eventually, sometime during the fifth night back at the Wall, Tristan’s fever broke, but he still remained in a deep slumber.

“I don’t know if he’s sleeping or still out from the sickness,” Dagonet told Nova, holding a hand to the Scout’s forehead, “He doesn’t feel warmer than he should. Hopefully he’ll wake up in the morning and will be back to normal in no time. He’ll need to rest, still. Even though the fever is gone and he will want to move around like he’s used to, we have to make sure he rests.”

Nova nodded, holding Tristan’s hand tightly in hers, “Thank you, Dagonet, and when you see Merlin, thank him for me, too.”

Dagonet smiled, “Tristan is family, Nova, we take care of each other.”

Nova returned the healer’s smile, watching as he quietly left the room before turning her full attention back to Tristan.


	4. Part IV

Tristan’s one eye suddenly snapped open. He couldn’t move his right arm at all, which was not necessarily anything new to him. That was when he remembered meeting Majidi and falling sick while escorting the younger man north to the Wall. With a frown, he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, reaching for his tunic with his good arm.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Startled, he looked up. A very tired looking Nova stood in his doorway, carrying a pitcher of fresh water and a plate of food.

“I have to get to Arthur,” he explained, coughing slightly, “It is my duty to care for the emissary while he’s here.”

"You’ve been on death’s door now for the last week. I’m not letting you go anywhere.”

Her voice, although barely above a whisper, held so many emotions that he couldn’t describe. He’d had no idea. To him it felt as if he’d just woken from a very deep sleep.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, “I didn’t intend for this.”

Within a breath, Nova was at his side, the tray of food set on a nearby chair as she threw her arms around him.

“Don’t you ever, ever do this to me again, Tristan,” her voice shook, “I love you too much.”

A pained frown crossed his face as he held her tightly to his chest, burying his face in her hair, “I love you more. I’m so very sorry I’ve put you through this. Nothing I say will make up for it.”

She turned her head to look up at him, smiling through relieved tears, “Just ask for help, Trist. Stop worrying so much about what other people think and do what you know is best for you. Dagonet and I can only do so much, you know.”

He stared at her for a moment in silence, then leaned in, pressing his lips to hers in a passionate kiss. His lips made their way to the nape of her neck, feverishly kissing at her skin.

“Tristan,” she breathed his name, a soft sigh escaping her.

Smiling against her skin, he continued his trail of kisses, one hand traveling to rest on her thigh.

“I’m still mad at you, you know,” she whispered, her emerald eyes bright, “This doesn’t make that go away.”

"I know, but I thought it might help just the same,” he grinned, grunting with exertion as he turned to pin her on the bed.

Squealing in surprise, her laughter quickly turned into a moan as he continued to kiss her.

“Trist-” she gasped.

“Hmm?” he murmured, running his hand further up her leg and feeling the goosebumps on her skin, “Do you want me to stop?”

She clung to him, shaking her head, “N-No. Please.”

With a low animalistic growl, he roughly pushed her dress up, pulling his own trousers down quickly before entering her. He closed his eye, letting out a long sigh as he felt her. She gasped when he moved inside her, her body shuddering underneath him. He reveled in the sounds she made, her warm skin against his as he moved faster, harder, nearing the edge all too quickly. A long, low moan escaped him, only stifled against her neck, her body arching toward his.

“I love you, Nova,” he whispered as he caught his breath.

She took his face in between both her hands, kissing his lips softly, “I love you more.”

“Not possible."

Laughing lightly, she rested her head on his shoulder, “Whatever you say, Tristan.”

He smiled, “You wanted me to stay in bed, right? I thought this would be a good way to do that.”

“Ever the charmer, aren’t you?” she nestled closer to him, stifling a yawn.

“Sleep, love,” he murmured, closing his own eye as they both drifted off.

.~~~~~~~.

The next morning, Tristan awoke to a calm quiet in his room. Nova was sleeping soundly next to him, the warmth of her peaceful, content smile making his chest constrict. He brushed his lips over her cheek as he tucked the blankets around her shoulders. He knew she would be mad at him for not staying in bed, but he also knew he had a job to do. He had to move, he couldn’t sit idle. She should understand that.

Standing slowly, he took his time getting dressed, belting his sword onto his right hip and straightening his leather coat. He let out a long breath, glancing at Nova who was still asleep, before quietly exiting his room and closing the door behind him. He turned down the hallway toward the direction of Arthur’s quarters, frowning thoughtfully as he methodically went on his way. He was painfully aware that his right leg and arm weren’t working as well as they should, so he walked slowly, taking his time to arrive at his destination.

He knocked twice on Arthur’s door.

“Enter,” Arthur’s voice sounded from inside.

Tristan opened the door, stepping into the room.

“Tristan!” Majidi stood next to Arthur, surprise on his face, “It is good to see you awake.”

Tristan bowed stiffly, "My apologies, my lord. I guarantee this is not the norm."

Majidi shook his head with a smile, "No apologies necessary, Tristan, these things happen. I am grateful that you are better now."

Arthur nodded, "I agree with Majidi. Now that you are here, Tristan, perhaps I can speak with you a moment."

Majidi bowed and exited the room, leaving the other two alone.

"Are you sure you’re well enough to be up?" Arthur asked quietly.

Tristan nodded, "Yes, sir. I am not completely back to normal, but I am good enough to do my job."

"You had us worried. Do you think this will be a reoccurring issue?"

Tristan shrugged his good shoulder, "I have no way of knowing. This was something unprecedented. I am truly grateful for Nova and Dagonet, but I fear I have embarrassed you, sir."

"Don't even think that, Tristan," Arthur smiled slowly, "It appears you have already made a friend in Majidi. He was concerned for your health and very understanding as to the reasoning behind your condition."

Tristan stood silent for a moment, "Arthur, I have never felt so afraid in my life. If I cannot trust my own body to do what I need it to do when I need it done, what good am I to anyone? If I can't trust myself, how can anyone trust me, for anything?"

Arthur shook his head, "One day at a time, Tristan. You have young Caradoc to mentor, remember?"

Tristan nodded, "How did he do while I was gone?"

"Not bad," Arthur responded slowly, "But not great. He has potential, he just needs direction and stability. I have reason to believe that the boy has a troubled past. Perhaps you can connect better with him on that level."

"Where is he now?"

"He was with the others in the training field this morning," Arthur told him, reaching for a scroll on the table, "Although, he may be in the stable with Jols."

Tristan bowed his head briefly, "Thank you, Arthur."

Arthur smiled, "Don't be afraid to ask for help, Tristan. Please don't push yourself too hard. You are far too valuable as a Knight and a friend to be lost over your own pride."

"I am keenly aware of that," Tristan shook his head, a half smile on his lips, "Nova gave me an earful when I woke up yesterday."

"As she should," Arthur barely glanced at him, "I gave Majidi leave to follow you if he wants. He expressed interest in watching you and the others training."

"Thank you again," Tristan spoke quietly as he turned to leave.

The other man just waved him off, now immersed in the scroll in front of him.

Smiling to himself, Tristan slowly made his way out into the hallway and down toward the training area.

"Sir Tristan?"

Tristan stopped, turning to look at the voice that had called out to him. He frowned. "Caradoc, why are you not with the others?"

The younger man ducked his head, kicking at a loose stone under his feet.

"Caradoc?"

"Are you feeling better now?" The boy asked, looking up at Tristan with worry in his eyes.

Letting out a long sigh, Tristan offered a smile, "Yes, I am. But you know that worrying about me doesn't make it okay to skip out on your training."

"I know. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

Tristan shook his head, a slight smile still gracing his lips. "Look at me, lad."

Slowly, Caradoc raised his eyes, meeting Tristan's gaze.

"Don't apologize," Tristan spoke softly, "I am grateful that you care. Truly. Now, tell me what you learned while I was away."

"Jols has had me working in the stables. And King Arthur has been teaching me the finer points of swordsmanship."

"Anything stand out to you in all that?" Tristan asked.

Caradoc nodded, "This is going to be a lot more work than I thought."

Tristan laughed lightly, "It will be, but it'll be worth it in the end, trust me. Now, what are you supposed to be doing right now?"

"Training with Galahad," Caradoc answered with a sigh, hanging his head, "I apologize, Sir Tristan. I have no excuse for my actions."

The Scout rested a hand on the younger man's shoulder, "You still have much to learn, lad. Come, let's join the others in the field."

Caradoc followed alongside Tristan, walking nearly in step with him, something the Scout noticed. The lad could have easily left him behind, walking at normal speed, but instead stayed back at Tristan's slower pace. As they stepped down into the inner field, a cold wind rushed into them, nearly stealing Tristan's breath from his throat. He bit back a wince as he felt his leg lock up, now unable to move it even one step forward.

"Tristan?" Caradoc spoke his concern quietly.

"C-can I lean on your shoulder?" Tristan asked, his voice strained.

Caradoc nodded, whispering, "I won't tell them."

Chuckling, Tristan smiled, "And for that, I am grateful."

The two of them walked slowly down to the roped off section of the field, coming to a stop at the edge. All of the other Knights were paired up with their trainees, practicing different styles of swordplay against each other.

"Tristan!" Galahad smiled at the Scout, parrying a thrust from Bedivere before disarming the other man in one swift movement. "Alright, take a break." Galahad winked at Bedivere and turned to approach Tristan and Caradoc. "Glad to see you're back, Trist. And Caradoc found you."

Tristan smiled, offering a curt nod in the younger Knight's direction. "It's good to be back, Galahad. Yes, Caradoc and I were just discussing the finer points of swordplay and the importance of keeping up with daily training."

The young man in question ducked his head, embarrassment clear on his reddened face.

"Good," Galahad nodded, seemingly unaware of the unspoken words between the other two. He continued in a softer voice, "We were all worried about you."

"I'm fine," Tristan replied in an equally quiet tone, "But thank you just the same."

Galahad smiled, "Are you feeling well enough to get in here with the rest of us?"

Hesitantly, Tristan shook his head, "I don't think that would be a good idea right now."

"Maybe moving around will help?" Caradoc suggested, looking up at Tristan. "My older brother would get awful muscle pain during the cold months and Papa always made him walk around."

"Seems like sound advice to me," Galahad winked at Tristan, lifting the rope for him to duck under.

Carefully, and with some help from Caradoc, Tristan joined the rest of the Knights in the training area. He looked around, noting that most of the other men were watching him. Cursing under his breath, he stood straight, biting back a wince of pain.

"What are you standing around for?" He growled at them good-naturedly, "Britain won't protect itself!"

A scattering of laughter resounded in the area as all the men went back to their training. Shaking his head, Tristan turned to face Caradoc, pulling out his sword with his left hand as he did so.

"Show me what you've learned, lad."

Caradoc pulled out his own blade, squaring off in front of the Scout. In a quick movement, the younger man rushed Tristan, swinging his sword in from the left. Tristan deftly parried, sidestepping and knocking Caradoc's sword off to the side.

"You leave yourself too open," Tristan told him, "Too easy to read. Try again."

With a nod, Caradoc came at him again, using a slightly different approach and swinging his sword up toward Tristan. The Scout barely deflected the blade, wincing as he took a step back.

"Better. Again."

Caradoc hesitated, keeping his sword low.

Tristan frowned, "Don't think because I am in pain that I can't still defend myself. Hesitation of any kind can be the difference between life and death for yourself. Come at me again."

The younger man raised his sword, moving forward and swinging at Tristan's left before swiftly switching to attack from the right. Mildly surprised, Tristan caught Caradoc's blade with his own, pushing back offensively until Caradoc was forced to take several steps back. The Scout's muscles screamed in protest, but he continued forward, until Caradoc couldn't hold him back. With a grimace, Caradoc dropped his sword, stumbling back and tripping over his own feet in the process and falling flat on the ground.

Tristan stopped, holding his own blade out, the tip pointed at Caradoc. A half smile lifted his lips, fire burning in his single eye. "Better, Caradoc, much better. But you assumed I couldn't react fast enough to block you," he sheathed his sword, holding a hand out to the younger man to help him up, "Never underestimate your opponent. Never assume anything. And never be too confident that you don't see the little details that can lead you to victory... Or defeat."

"I understand," Caradoc let out a sharp breath, "I'll do better, Sir Tristan."

Tristan shook his head, "Don't do it for me. Do it for yourself. And please, call me Tristan."

"Yes, sir," Caradoc smiled slightly as he looked up at the Scout, "Are you feeling better?"

"Yes, I suppose I am," Tristan offered a smile in return.

"Nicely done, Trist," Gawain clapped him on the shoulder, "Remind me never to underestimate your swordsmanship. Are you up for some archery practice? I heard Ector say that he's the best archer where he came from."

Tristan narrowed his eye, "Well, he's in Britain now."

"So, that's a yes, then?" Gawain grinned.

"Let's see what skill he has."

Gawain looked back at the rest of the men, "You heard our Scout, to the range it is!"

The men cheered, putting always their swords and shields and filing out of the practice area. Dagonet slowed as he reached Tristan, nodding to Caradoc.

"Are you sure, Trist? You haven't tried much with your bow since... Badon Hill."

Tristan nodded, calm resolve on his face, "I'll manage. Don't worry, Dag."

Dagonet only nodded as he and Tristan followed Caradoc and the others out toward the archery targets. Most of the men stood back, talking quietly among themselves while they waited for everyone to gather around. Tristan watched Ector and Galahad each pick up a bow and choose a handful of arrows. He took a deep breath, stepping up to join them.

"Tristan, here."

He turned at the sound of a familiar voice, smiling when he saw Nova. She held his bow out to him, resting a gentle hand on his arm.

"Don't think too hard about it and you'll be just fine."

"Thank you," he pressed his lips to hers briefly before stepping into line.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Tristan?" Galahad smirked as he knocked an arrow to his bow, "You still have an opportunity to back out."

"Stop talking, pup," Tristan replied, "Let me show you how the men use a bow."

Amid light laughter from the Knights, Galahad scowled, "Well, that's not fair. You know I don't like that nickname and you do realize that you helped me perfect my shooting?"

"I'm aware," was all the Scout said, looking to Ector, "You want to make a bet on this?"

The older man looked slightly taken aback by the question, but he nodded, "If you want to lose some coin, sure."

Tristan smiled, a cool calculated smirk, "I wasn't thinking that. How about stable chores? Loser has to do the winner's day of stable care."

"I'm alright with that," Ector replied.

"I want in on that, too," Galahad spoke up.

"Alright, enough talking," Gawain stepped toward them, "Galahad, Ector and Tristan are going to show off. On my command, release three arrows in succession at your target. Then I will compare accuracy and declare the winner. May the best archer win."

The three men in question readied their bows, Tristan the only one with no arrow on his string.

"Raise your bows. Aim."

The field was silent as the three of them followed Gawain's command.

"Release!"

Just as the first syllable of the word left Gawain's lips, Tristan put an arrow to his bowstring, raised the weapon and fired at his target with practiced speed and precision. He pulled a second arrow and sent it flying as he reached for his third. His right arm that held his bow steady wavered slightly and he winced, trying to regain control before firing off his last arrow.

Silence remained across the field. He glanced over at Ector and Galahad, frowning when he saw the latter with a genuine expression of shock on his face.

"Hold your bows, I have to check this," Gawain held up his hand to them and jogged down toward the targets.

A moment later, Gawain came back, shaking his head with a smile. "Well, Galahad, as good as you may be, you didn't even come close to these two. Ector, I must say, I did not expect this of you, but you beat our Tristan."


End file.
